


Lock and Key

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Claustrophobia, Clexa Week 2017, F/F, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: #ClexaWeek2017During a theater rehearsal, Clarke and Lexa get locked into a closet behind the stage.  Turns out Lexa is afraid of the dark.





	

"Damn it, Griffin! I don't have _time_ for this right now!" Lexa stood in the doorway of the storage closet at the back of the stage, her arms crossed, hip thrust out to keep the door propped. 

"I'll find it!" Clarke snapped back. "I just saw it the other day! I know it's in here. It's just a... matter... of... where..." Her voice trailed off and Lexa heard the sounds of boxes being shuffled and sifted through. 

"How could you find _anything_ in here?" Lexa demanded. "It's a mess, for one, and for two, it's too dark to see!" Only the very dim light from backstage filtered through. "Can't you turn on a light or something?"

"The bulb blew," Clarke said. "We haven't gotten a janitor to replace it."

Lexa ground her teeth. "Just... hurry up."

"You could always come _help_ me," Clarke pointed out, "instead of standing there barking orders like some kind of drill sergeant." Lexa thought she might have followed it up with some mumbling about how Lexa wasn't even the director, only the assistant, but she might have imagined that part. 

_Why should I?_ , Lexa wanted to say. _I'm not the one who lost it._ Instead she grabbed the nearest box and put it in front of the door to keep it from closing, then stepped inside. 

She heard the sliding scrape of cardboard over dusty wood a little too late, and got to the door just as it clicked closed. She twisted the knob back and forth, rattling it as if somehow that would magically unlock it, but of course it didn't work. Everyone knew that the storage closet automatically locked, and that you had to make sure to prop it securely or risk getting trapped inside. 

Everyone, apparently, except her.

She banged her hand against the door, hoping that someone would hear and come open it. But the cast was in the choir room working on some of the songs from the second act that were still rocky, and she could hear the buzz and hum of power tools out on stage as the crew began to assemble the set. There was no way anyone was going to hear her over the noise.

"Fuck," she said, and then shouted it. "FUCK!"

A metallic taste crept up the back of her throat, and her ears started to ring. She banged against the door again, and then kicked it, but it didn't budge, and now her toes hurt, but at least that was something to focus on other than her rising panic. 

"Hey."

Clarke's voice, sounding impossibly far away even though she knew the room was small. 

"Hey. Lexa." This time she was closer, but still her voice sounded strange to Lexa's ears, like she was underwater, maybe, but that was probably just in Lexa's head. She pressed her shoulder hard against the door, shoving, but it was stupid, and pointless. It wasn't even a door that pushed open. It pulled. She found the knob again and yanked, her eyes filling with tears when it still didn't budge.

"Where are you?" Clarke asked.

"Where the fuck do you think I am?" Lexa demanded. 

No answer, and the buzzing in her head got louder. 

"Sorry," Clarke said, and she was closer still, close enough that maybe if she just reached out... But she pulled her arms in to her chest instead, fighting the urge. "Stupid question. Just... keep talking, okay?"

"What the fuck do you want me to say?" 

"Nothing," Clarke said as her hand brushed over Lexa's arm. "Never mind. I found you."

"What are you...?" Lexa asked as Clarke's hand slid down her arm to her hand, and she took it and squeezed it. 

"It's okay," she said. "You're okay."

"It's _not_ okay," Lexa hissed. "We're stuck in here, and no one can hear us!" 

"They'll eventually come to put the tools away," Clarke said. "We won't be stuck in here forever. And you're not alone, so it's not as bad as it might be." Her voice was low, soft, soothing. "Maybe Anya will come looking for you."

"Maybe," Lexa said, her panic ebbing slightly, more because of Clarke's touch grounding her than because of the words she was saying. 

It helped, not being alone. Last time... last time she'd been alone. Last time she'd cried and she'd screamed and no one had heard, and no one had come for what seemed like an eternity but was actually only a little over a day...

She choked on something that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Did the word _only_ apply to _any_ amount of time when you were trapped in an overturned car down a ravine in the middle of nowhere with the bodies of your dead parents, wondering if anyone would ever, ever come?

"You're shaking," Clarke said softly, and let go of Lexa's hand.

For a second Lexa thought she was going to leave her, that somehow she knew what was going on in Lexa's head and she wanted no part of it. But then she felt Clarke's arms close around her, pulling her into a hug, holding her tight, and she felt hot tears scald her eyes and cascade down her cheeks, and she pressed her face into the curve of Clarke's neck.

"Shhh," Clarke whispered. "Shhh, it's all right. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Too late," Lexa said. She didn't mean to say it out loud. 

Clarke made a humming noise that didn't really mean yes or no or anything at all, but she turned her head so that her lips brushed Lexa's ear. "Right here, right now, I won't let anything happen to you. I'll keep the monsters away."

"You can't," Lexa said. "It's not possible."

"'I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,'" Clarke quoted. "Let me help you."

"You can't," Lexa repeated, but really she already was. Having Clarke pressed up against her like this gave her something to measure her breathing against, which kept the panic at bay. 

"Would it help to talk about it?" Clarke asked.

"No."

"Then why don't I tell you something instead?" Clarke suggested. 

"Okay."

Lexa felt Clarke's lips against her ear, and then she whispered something that was even more impossible than the idea that Clarke would face down her demons for her. Under any other circumstances, she would have taken a step back, pushed her away... but the idea of losing connection with any part of her was absolutely terrifying. More terrifying, even, than the possibility of this impossible thing.

"Okay," she said, barely audible but she was sure Clarke heard. She slid her arms around from between them and wrapped them around Clarke, hesitant and awkward, but if Clarke noticed or minded it didn't show. She felt the tip of Clarke's nose brush along her cheek, and then against her nose, and then Clarke's lips were on hers, and it was softer than she could have imagined, sweeter than she ever could have dreamed, and that kiss...

... that kiss felt like it reached deep inside of her and unlocked something that she'd never dared even try to look for the key to. 

She melted into it, pulling Clarke closer, pressing their bodies together as close as they could be made to fit, and the fact that they were trapped in the dark ceased to matter because the only thing in the entire world was Clarke.

She didn't even hear the door unlocked, didn't notice the break in the darkness when the door opened. She didn't snap out of the trance the kiss induced until someone else spoke.

"Fucking finally," Raven said.

"You're telling me," Anya answered. 

Lexa opened her eyes and looked at Clarke, who was looking at her. Then, as one, they both raised their middle fingers, and reached to close the door again.


End file.
